


The Sludge Incident

by orphan_account



Series: The Disastrous Life of Master Attendant and Co. [2]
Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Brownie Is Trying His Best, Brownie Swears, Crack, Gen, I Can’t Believe There’s A Second One, Master Attendant’s Pissed, NO ONE KNOWS, Not Beta Read, Please don’t kill me, Rated for Slight Swearing, What Was I Thinking, author regrets everything, no beta read we die like illiterates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 11:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16117058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As odd as it was, most of the Food Souls couldn’t cook breakfast. Sure, they could cook a magnificent lunch or dinner, and their pastries were divine, but when faced with making pancakes, they failed terribly. It didn’t stop them from trying, though.





	The Sludge Incident

It was just a regular day in Gloriville.

Flowers were blooming, people were sleeping, birds were starting to chirp their early morning songs, Napoleon Cake was screaming-

Wait, what?

Brownie screwed his eyes shut and laid statue-still in bed, praying to whatever deity that was out there that if he ignored the wisps of smoke and the smell of ashes they would magically disappear.

But alas, there would be no such divine intervention this fateful morning, and it would appear Brownie would have to clean up whatever mess those little shits (yes, Brownie swore on very rare occasion, much to Coffee’s immense horror (“ _Who corrupted my innocent, baby brother_?”) and Master Attendant’s disproportionality great delight) created.

His self-proclaimed position as a butler was a blessing and a curse, really.

He tidied his appearance, charged up his gun just in case, and strode down to the kitchen area, silently dreading the terrors he was about to witness.

The scene was... _odd_ to put it lightly.

There were stray pots, pans, and cutlery, covered in a bubbling, unidentifiable orange goop, strewn across the kitchen. Tables were overturned and chairs were stacked haphazardly, all conglomerated into a makeshift barricade.

A barricade against what, precisely, Brownie was yet to determine. 

Bamboo Rice and Moon Cake were cackling maniacally as they did a tribal dance around what seemed to be a living version of the afore mentioned unidentified goop, while Boston Lobster was just staring at it in fear. Vodka appeared to be drunkenly stumbling about, regardless of the small fires littering the kitchen, Napoleon Cake was sobbing, and Sweet Tofu was rocking back and forth on his heels in a fetal position, muttering in a low voice, “We just wanted to make breakfast for Master Attendant.”

Say the devil’s name, and he shall appear.

Master Attendant sleepily stumbled down, apparently awoken from the racket, and half heartedly glared at everyone.

They turned to Brownie, and they shared a Looktm with him.

They sighed, apparently done with everyone’s bullshit, and pointed upstairs.

“I have a soundproof room next to my bedroom. It’s 4 am and you deserve some rest. Go sleep, I’ll deal with these fuckers.”

Brownie just nodded and began his ascent upstairs, going along with it partially because he didn’t want to incur the wrath of a annoyed Master Attendant (one of their biggest peeves was when Brownie refused to just relax sometimes and let them handle situations), but mostly because he wanted to go back to sleep and not deal with this. 

And if he smiled at the sound of everyone’s pleas of mercy and screams of terror as he turned in for bed, well, that was just his little secret.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me @its-a-me-a-mirio out on Tumblr


End file.
